Firsts

by P. R. Zed

For the contrelamontre 'world at its knees' challenge.

Alec Trevelyan curled up in the wing chair in his bedroom and watched the sleeping man in his bed. The streetlamp cast just enough light so he could see James' face, relaxed in sleep but never innocent. Could see the muscles and sinew beneath the skin; could see the strength of the man, strength that he had enjoyed grappling with this night, strength that had both protected him and stripped him bare. And he wondered where it would all end.

He remembered his first meeting with this man, the newest double-O agent, cocky and arrogant as they all were. Had been prepared to hate this favoured English son, until he saw a spark of something familiar but unnamed in the other man's expression. From that moment of like meeting like had sprung an unlikely partnership. A friendship. And more.

He could still feel their first kiss on his mouth. It had come at the end of a brutal mission, a mission where they both expected death and yet lived. The kiss had begun as a hunger for life nearly denied. Neither of them had initiated it. Or both of them had. It made no difference in the end.

The first kiss had not been the last. Nor had it been all they shared of their bodies. After missions, they would end up at each other's flats with increasing frequency, and a shared drink would turn into a shared bed. They would kiss and bite and scratch and fuck and revel in the fact that they were alive, that they could feel pleasure as well as pain.

Alec could no longer remember on which such night he had first fucked or been fucked, but he could remember the first night he had lain awake watching James sleep and contemplated telling him everything. Telling him how he would wreak his revenge for his parents' deaths, how the two of them could achieve power and wealth, could have the world at its knees. The thought of sharing power with this man had made Alec feel invincible. Together they could have everything. Together, nothing stood in their way.

He stirred in the chair and sighed. However much he might want to reveal his true self to James, it was all a phantasm, an impossibility. A joke.

Alec now knew that James, for all his viciousness, his ruthlessness, was a Boy Scout. He truly did everything for England; he honestly believed in Queen and Country.

He was a fool.

And Alec Trevelyan was an even bigger fool. Knowing that James Bond was his enemy, he could not keep from wanting him as a friend. Knowing the James would hunt him down like his personal Nemesis, he could not stop wanting his body.

Unfolding his legs, he stood and strode over to the bed. Sliding under the covers, he let James' warmth dispel the cold that had seeped into his limps. But even holding James' living heat in his arms could not drive away the first chill fingers of despair Alec felt twine through his being.

Fin



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